My New Son
by nintendofreakgcn
Summary: A short oneshot based on part of the ending of the original film. From the point of view of Ducky's mother.


A/N: Hi, everyone. Land Before Time fanfiction isn't exactly my thing, but I've had this idea in my head for so long, and I just had to get it out there. It's just a little one-shot based on one of my favourite bits in the original movie. It should all be easy enough to understand, so read, enjoy, and, if you have any comments to make, review.

**My New Son**

The Great Valley – paradise. But not for me. I dip my beak into the cool water of the river and snap up some moist green food. Delicious, but it doesn't satisfy. My back feels warm. I rear my neck up, and gaze at a widening gap in the clouds. It's a new day in a new life in a new home, but old problems still abound.

I let out a sigh. "Ducky," I whisper. It's been two weeks since she went missing in the great earthshake, but the pain has merely numbed, not gone. I don't know why it hurts me so much. I still have six children who made it here safely. I glance at three of them, playing happily by the stream. I remind myself of those poor longnecks who lost their last daughter and only grandson, or all the fools who went off with Pterano. I'm lucky, I remind myself, but it does little to help.

I'm dimly aware of Sauro stepping into the water beside me. He's nice, but we mated out of convenience, not love. He can't help me. He can't bring Ducky back, and he definitely can't make me forget her. I turn away from him, and step out of the water. As I close my eyes, I can almost hear Ducky's laughter in my ears. It grows louder, slowly but surely. Strange.

I open my eyes, and my vision is filled with a wondrous sight. A young swimmer rides on the back of a large baby spiketail as he runs, then slides, through the water. Such acceptance would be wonderful at any time, but it's made heavenly by the knowledge that the swimmer is my daughter, Ducky. For a moment, I stand there, unable to believe that she has returned to me. Even as the lumbering spiketail slows to a stop, and Ducky leaps off his back, I only make faltering steps towards them.

My children are much less hesitant. They join their sister in an instant. They look up at the face of the spiketail. They giggle, but it's not mocking. As they swim around him, the spiketail gazes at one of them with his large eyes, before losing sight behind his bulky body.

"This is our new brother Spike!" Ducky says as she clambers up to the spiketail's neck. I dwell on her words for a moment as I walk up beside the pair. Spike… it's a fitting name, though I doubt it's one his parents would have chosen. From Ducky's words, it's clear he's an orphan. Poor thing. I want to comfort him, but as he looks around with those big eyes, his tongue hanging slightly out of his open mouth, he doesn't look like he needs it. Indeed, he sighs contentedly before I can even nuzzle the side of his head. I complete the action, but I'm not sure why.

Then, before I've had a chance to collect my thoughts, Ducky is off. She introduces Spike to each of her siblings, and he gives each of them an affectionate lick on the face, much to their amusement. Then Ducky and Spike are off again. They gather on a nearby hill with a longneck, a threehorn and a flier. They embrace each other, and it's obvious that they're friends. As I gaze up at them, it's obvious to me that there are many in the Great Valley who could learn from their example.

Yes, friendship is a wonderful thing, especially when it crosses boundaries. But Ducky didn't introduce Spike as a friend. She introduced him as her brother. That is something much more complicated.

***

The rest of the day passes all too quickly. Ducky and her friends have spent the time exploring the Great Valley. I haven't had a chance to talk to her, to hear about the events of the last two weeks, or to find out the whole story about Spike. As the first of the stars twinkle in the night sky, it's clear that I won't find those answers today.

Ducky and her friends head back to the stream. One by one, the longneck, threehorn and flier are called away by their families. Spike responds to each departure with a quiet gasp and a gaze I can't put my finger on. Soon, he and Ducky are the only ones left. His head droops as he stares at the ground.

"Come on Spike," Ducky says as she walks towards me, "let us go home." Spike glances up at me, but doesn't look me in the eye. He edges towards me, his steps barely bigger than Ducky's, in spite of his much larger legs. As Ducky walks up beside me, I turn away, and lead her towards the nest. I glance back to check on Spike. He's still following us, but at a distance.

"Now Ducky," I say, "it's been a long day, so I expect you to go to sleep without any fuss." Ducky responds with a nod. Looking back, I add, "Spike, that goes for you, too."

Ducky looks up at me. "Oh, you do not need to worry about Spike, mama. He is a very good sleeper, yep, yep, yep."

On one level, that's a relief. Spike will take up enough space without him causing any more problems. But it reveals a bigger problem. Here I am, about to let someone into my nest, and I know nothing about them. How can I take him in? Still, he needs somewhere to sleep tonight.

We arrive at the nest, which is little more than a cleared-out area of dry dirt near the river. Sauro has already laid down nearby, but our children are all still running around. Ordinarily, we split the children between us, but I knew before I got here that tonight would be different. They all want to sleep with Ducky… and Spike, I suppose. I glance back again, and sure enough, Spike has followed us all the way here, though he still won't look me in the eye.

"Okay, everyone," I say, "time to get some sleep!" I lie down on the ground, and the children all run up to my side. They lie down in a messy pile next to me. I wrap my tail around one side, and my neck around the other, shielding them from the breeze. Ducky runs into the gap, and joins her siblings.

I look out, and see Spike, still standing out there, his eyes darting between the nest and the ground beneath him. "Come on, Spike," Ducky says. She waves him over, and he lumbers towards the nest, his eyes still focused on the ground. He finds an empty patch, not touching anyone, and lies down. He scratches in the dirt with his foot, and keeps his gaze focused on the ground.

I barely suppress my frown. "Get some sleep," I whisper. One by one, my children close their eyes. Spike keeps staring at the ground. "Spike, you too." He takes one last glance away from the nest before closing his eyes.

As I look at his still form, I ponder. How can I take him in? He's here now, sleeping in my nest, but should he be? I'm sure he slept with Ducky and their friends as they traveled here, but that was different. That was a necessity. Is this mixed nest necessary? Tonight, perhaps. He only just arrived, and he needs to sleep somewhere.

But what about tomorrow, and the day after? True, there are no other spiketails in the Great Valley, but I can't take care of him. I know very little about his kind, and I can barely take care of my own children. I can't take him in. It wouldn't be fair to him. What he needs is to be with someone who understands him.

But who could he stay with? Mr Thicknose, perhaps? He is the wisest in the Great Valley, so he would know how to take care of Spike. But then, he's also the oldest in the valley, so it wouldn't be fair to expect him to keep a constant eye on someone as young as Spike.

Still, I should seek out his advice. He'll know an ideal solution. I glance at Spike again. As I see how big he is compared to my children, I know I can't take care of him.

As I close my eyes, I am grateful for one thing: at least he's a light sleeper.

***

My eyes flutter open, but I'm not sure why. A quick glance at the sky shows that it's still night. Yawning, I glance over to my children. I do a quick tail-count. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven? Yes, that's right. Ducky returned yesterday. Just as I'm about to close my eyes, I see a large, bare patch of dirt, with a faint imprint in it. Almost as if someone had been sleeping there. My head shoots up as I recall the full events of yesterday.

"Spike?" I whisper. No response. I look down at the ground, and see a trail of footprints, definitely not made by a swimmer, leading away from the nest. The trail heads off around some trees and out of sight. I glance back at my children in the nest. They're all sleeping soundly, unaware of Spike's disappearance. It's a warm night. They won't notice if I leave for a short while.

Slowly and silently, I rise to my feet. Walking with soft steps, I follow the trail of footprints. As I wind past the nearby tree, I see one of the many wide open spaces of the Great Valley. No sign of Spike, but the trail continues, and so I continue to follow it.

As I stride over the soft grass, I am very aware that I am fidgeting. I remind myself not to worry. The Great Valley is a safe place. But Spike is new here, and doesn't know the land. If he were to wonder off and get lost, or even head into the Mysterious Beyond…

I increase my walking pace. The trail of footprints winds around for a while, seemingly at random, before deciding on a path. I pass by the family of longnecks. The grandson, one of Ducky's friends, sleeps soundly in a large footprint. I'm not the only one who had a loved one returned to them, though I do wonder whether the elderly longnecks are up to the task of rearing a child in their old age. The trail leads towards their nest for a bit, then leads away. I follow it once again.

The trail of footprints heads through a patch of trees. I duck to avoid the thicker branches up above, and push my way through the thinner ones down below. Still no sign of Spike. What is he doing out here? I'm ashamed for not knowing, but I don't know why. I can't be expected to know. He wouldn't tell me.

The trail leads me past a small grove - the nest of the threehorn family. I slow down, making sure I stay very quiet. Mr Threehorn is grumpy at the best of times, let alone when he's just been woken up. I notice a much younger threehorn there, whom I recognize. She's one of Ducky's friends… and Spike's, too, I suppose. Once again, the trail of footprints leads away. I follow it again, gradually quickening my steps as I go.

A lump develops in my throat. This is taking too long. Spike's gone too far. He must have gotten lost. But why does this worry me? Spike doesn't need me. He doesn't seem to need anyone. He doesn't have a care in the world.

I exit the mass of trees, and find myself by a tall rock face on the edge of the Great Valley. There's a cave high up in its side. The branches at its edge show that it's a flier's nest. Spike has a flier friend. Indeed, the trail has led me past all of Spike's friends. That must mean something, but what? Surely he knew they'd be around, in other nests.

The trail leads away from the rock face and up a hill. There I see him, standing alone, gazing up at the dark sky – Spike. I walk up behind him. He doesn't budge. "Spike?" I whisper. He flinches, then slowly turns his head to face me. He avoids eye contact, and swiftly turns his head away and trudges down the hill. "Spike!" I call out, following him down the hill. I walk ahead of him, cutting off his path. He stops in his tracks, but merely looks down at the ground. I lower my head, looking him straight in the eye, even if he won't return the favour. "Spike, you shouldn't wander away from the nest in the middle of the night. Didn't your parents teach you that?"

I silently curse myself for that insensitive comment. To my surprise, though, Spike doesn't cry, or even hang his head lower. Instead, he looks up at me, and makes a low, quizzical grunt. "Um, you know, your parents?" I ask, holding my arms out as if it will make my point clearer. Spike stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head.

Then it hits me. Spike didn't just lose his parents; he never knew them. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place in my head. "Every night, you've slept with Ducky and her friends, haven't you?" I ask. Spike nods. "All of them?" Spike nods again, more slowly this time. I hesitate. "And now you can't." Spike nods. His head droops as he whimpers. He closes his eyes, and I see a few tears fall. I'm silent for a moment, but in that moment, I know what I must do.

I lean over as far as I can, so that my beak is close to Spike's face. "Spike," I say, "I don't know a lot about you… but I'd like to." The tears stop falling, and Spike is silent. "I can't promise it will always be easy, or that I'll always get things right, but I can promise you one thing." I take a deep breath, all too aware of the commitment I'm about to make. "I'll never, ever leave you."

Spike opens his eyes, and for the first time, truly looks at me. His eyes are still filled with tears, but now they're full of life as well. A broad grin spreads across his face. He stands as tall as he can, stretching to nuzzle my beak. As he goes back down, he licks the tip. I laugh, and Spike laughs back.

"Shall we head back to the nest, then?" I ask. Spike nods, and bounds off ahead of me. I struggle to keep up, but he knows the way. By the time I reach the nest, he is already there, still grinning broadly, his eyes still beaming. Ducky and the others are still sound asleep, none the wiser.

Stifling a yawn, I lie down and wrap my tail around my children. Spike lies down by my neck. He nuzzles the side of my head, before drifting off to sleep. Deep sleep rumbles emanate from his throat. Well, I did say it wouldn't always be easy.

How can I take him in? How can I not? Spike needs me… and I need him. We both know how it feels to be alone, when you're surrounded by loved ones. He needs someone who will be there for him, no matter what, in the good times as well as the bad. I need someone to remind me of one thing: no matter how hard things get, you can make it out the other side and still be happy. Things don't get much harder than they have been for Spike. He lost his parents. No, I remind myself, he didn't lose his parents. His mother is right here.

It's a new day in a new life in a new home, and I'll share it with my new son.


End file.
